


Meeting the Parents.mp4

by IWriteStuffAndThings



Series: Malic and Jamie: Random Romance [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Adorable, Comfort, Cute, Double Feature, Fluff, Gay, I love my boys, Light Angst, M/M, Mean Parents, Meeting the Parents, Nervousness, Nice parents, Parent Death, Single Parents, they are the best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-02-27 15:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18741508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWriteStuffAndThings/pseuds/IWriteStuffAndThings
Summary: The boys meet each other's parents for the first time. One is sweet, the other bitter.***Takes place in the Scrapbook universe, you should read that before you read this one cause it won't really make sense***





	1. The Way You Look at Me

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed make sure to give this a kudo and leave your thoughts in the comments.
> 
> Want more of these boys? Then subscribe to this series, it's all about their cute antics and shit, and if you have something you want to see me write about them leave that in the comments of one of the stories.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

 

“You look nice,” Jamie says, eyeing me up and down.

“Not too nice though, I don’t want to look like I’m flaunting,” I question, whirling around to face him.

He chuckles, “No, not too nice.”

I glance again in the mirror, noticing the piece of hair that isn’t brushed the same as the others. I reach for the comb that is laying next to the tube of hair gel and stick of deodorant on my bathroom counter. Before I can grab the comb, however, Jamie clutches at my hand and laces his fingers in between mine.

He tugs me forward slightly, getting my attention, “Stop, you look amazing. Why are you freaking out, my dad is cool.”

“Maybe to you, but he hasn’t met me yet and I really want to make a good first impression. If he’s going to be my father-in-law someday I don’t want him to hate me,” I protest, although I don’t miss the light blush that spreads over his cheeks at the mention of in-laws.

“Well, do you want my advice,” he asks, lightly raising my hands to his lips and kissing them, “My dad will most likely be cooking a very rushed dinner and be wearing a Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts when we arrive, so if you want to make him like you be willing to sit on some lawn chairs in the yard and knock back a couple of beers.” I give him a nod to show that I’m absorbing all of the information, maybe a little more intently than he anticipated. 

He begins to walk out of the room, but before he does he says, “Also brush out your hair and loosen a few buttons, we’re going to his trailer, not a gala.”

He disappears around the corner and walks towards the living room, “Should I change,” I desperately question. However, I receive no answer.

I turn back to the mirror in front of me, I pull up the white button down I have tucked into my blue slacks so that it hangs around my body a little looser. I unbutton the top two buttons, checking myself out in the mirror. I look good, but maybe too good. I’ll just mess up my hair a bit, maybe I could change, this isn’t really a beer drinking outfit.

“Malic, I can practically hear you thinking and I’m almost in the garage. You’ll be fine, let’s go,” Jamie shouts from downstairs. I look at myself in the mirror one more time, run my hand through my hair, and quickly move downstairs. Jamie is standing at the bottom giving me a quizzical look. 

“Sorry, had some last minute fixes to make,” I say, striding over to him and using a hand on the small of his back to guide him into a kiss.

“You know I wasn’t trying to say you looked bad before, I was just trying to say you don’t have to be panicking over my dad,” we start moving into the garage and towards the car.

I hop into the driver's seat, and Jamie gets into the passenger, “Well I am panicking over your dad, I really want him to like me. Is that bad?”

“No, it’s not bad, it’s actually really sweet. I just want you to know that when you meet him you’ll realize you did all this worrying for nothing, I mean we’re meeting the guy in a trailer, he’s not exactly expecting you to be some Armani clad superhero.”

I take a deep breath. I know he’s right, but it would really mean a lot to me if the love of my life’s dad approved of our relationship at least.

Jamie seems to have predicted what I was thinking, because he answers, “He will like you. He likes most people, but he especially likes good, genuine people that have a big heart, which is you to a T. From what he’s heard about you he already seems to like you.”

I feel my heart stop for a moment, “What have you told him about me?”

“I’ve told him how sweet you are, how you always take care of me even when I don’t need it. I told him about the fact that you are unfairly hot,” I chuckle at that one, “and most importantly, I told him that I love you.”

I smile fondly, “You guys seem to have a good relationship.”

“Yeah, we do. When mom died we tried to be each other's rocks, and I guess we never stopped.”

I glance over at him, before turning back to the road, “What was your mom like?”

He sighs, and I see his cheeks raise as a small smile appears on his face, “Her and my dad were like two peas in a pod, they were both free souls. Before they had a family they traveled a lot, never taking more than they needed. They would talk for hours at night about what they did that day and there never seemed to be a lull in the conversation. They were, and are, the reason I believe in soulmates.”

“She sounds like she was wonderful, I wish I could meet her.” I take one hand off the steering wheel and squeeze his hand.

“I do too,” He sighs contentedly, and we let the sound of the world around us fill the car in comfortable silence.

However, the reverie is short lived as I make my turn into the trailer park Jamie’s dad is staying at. Jamie told me earlier he had driven his trailer out from Kansas to go on this big tour of the west coast. Apparently he’s been on this big travel kick, so when he told Jamie about his venture to the west coast he suggested he stop by LA to come meet with us and have dinner. Obviously he agreed, although he insisted he cooked, rather than going out to a restaurant as I had suggested. Something to do with wanting to cook for his son’s boyfriend or whatever.

His reasoning doesn’t seem as important at this moment, as I have parked the car to the side of a white trailer with two large gold stripes running along the sides. I shut off the car, but I don’t get out. Instead, I stare blankly out the front window, trying to quell the torrent of thoughts in my head. 

“Hey,” Jamie says, placing his hand over mine, “What’s up with you? Are you okay?”

“It’s just,” I start, before backtracking, “Have you ever wondered why I haven’t introduced you to my parents yet?”

“Yes, but I didn’t want to press. I know they can be a sore subject for you,” He says sympathetically, and I can feel his adorably concerned eyes boring into the side of my head.

“I have brought people home to them and had it go very, very poorly. I really,” I turn my head to look at him, “really don’t want to be that person.”

His eyebrows raise, “You have a right to worry, but I will tell you this as many times as you would like to hear it before we go into that trailer, my dad will like you. In fact, I know he will love you. The only criteria to please my dad as my partner is that you make me happy and care for me. You not only do those things, but you are also sweet, and funny, and hot as hell. You worry about things like this, which means you really care. The only thing you have to do when you go in there is say hello, maybe shake his hand, and eat his food and drink his beer. Do you think you can do that,” he says, chuckling.

“Yeah,” I say, smiling a little. 

I reach behind me and pull on the door handle to open my door and get out of the car. I move around the car to open Jamie’s door for him, but he beat me to it, having already gotten out of the car.

“You know, we’ve been dating for close to nine months now. You can stop trying to woo me.”

“Never, never will I ever stop trying to woo you.” I lean down and plant a kiss to the top of his head as I grab his hand in mine and lace our fingers together.

“Well, I’m not complaining.” 

We walk to the door of the trailer and Jamie pulls his hand away to knock, only to put his hand right back in mine. I smile at him, and he leans a little into me.

There is a sudden crash of pots and pans in a flurried scramble, and then a loud “SHIT” from inside. A couple of rapid footsteps later and a frazzled looking man throws the door open. He is wearing a tan Hawaiian shirt with some light pink flowers on it and some khaki Bermuda shorts. I feel Jamie nudge me at the sight of his outfit.

“Hey guys,” He gets out in between exhausted breaths, “Give me a minute, will you?” Jamie nods with a small smile on his face, so I nod as well.

He closes the door, leaving us outside.

I look back at Jamie as a cacophony of loud noises sound out from inside the trailer. He has a fond smile on his face, “Only my dad would leave us outside while he finished dinner.” He lightly chuckles.

“You missed him a lot, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t think I would,” He says, “We talk on the phone all the time, but just seeing him is really nice.”

“I get it,” I remove my hand from his and wrap my arm around him, pulling him closer. 

Suddenly, the patter of feet coming towards the door is back. The door is flung open, and Jamie’s dad is back.

“Hello again, sorry about that.” He looks over at Jaime, “Get in here, bud,” he opens his arms for Jamie and him to embrace.

The hug for a few seconds and I hear Jamie mutter “I missed you” into his shoulder before stepping back.

“You must be Malic,” he says, meeting my gaze.

“That’s me,” I say, trying to feign confidence.

“Stevie,” he says extending his hand. I take it, expecting him to shake my hand. Instead, he pulls me into a short embrace, clapping me on the back, “Good to finally meet you, son.”

I internally panic at his use of the word ‘son.’ So I quickly respond with a sufficient, “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Well, why don’t you guys come in, I made some of my world famous cornbread and chili,” he steps to the right of the doorway, allowing us room to enter.

“I’ve missed your cooking so much, no one here cooks like you,” Jamie says as we walk into the trailer.

“If your cooking is anything like your son’s then he’s right,” I say to Stevie. 

“I taught him everything I know,” he chuckles, “but I personally think that the apprentice has surpassed the master.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Jamie laughs as he moves over to the stove, lifting the lid off of the pot and wafting some of the scent towards his nose. 

Stevie steps beside me, “What do you think James, is it good?” I smile at the nickname.

He contemplates the smell for a moment, “It could use a little garlic seasoning, do you have any?”

“Cupboard right above you,” he says. Jamie grabs the bottle and begins to tentatively add some seasoning to the chili. Stevie nudges me, “And he still says he isn’t better than me,” I smile, but I don’t take my eyes off of Jamie. I’ve always liked to watch him cook, knowing exactly what to add and when. He said that had he not opened his shop he would have liked to study cooking or at least work in a culinary setting. He would be a fantastic chef, but I’m not entirely mad that, for the most part, he cooks for just me and him.

“Alright, it’s done I think. How’s the cornbread looking dad,” Jamie turns around, “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” we say in unison, before looking and each other and laughing.

Jamie raises his eyebrows quizzically, “Cornbread?”

“Right, right,” Stevie says, running over to check the oven, “It looks done to me.” He grabs the oven mitts that were resting on the counter, using them to pull out a dish filled with golden, slightly browned cornbread, “I’m going to leave it here to cool for a few minutes, can I get you guys some drinks in the meantime?”

“Depends on what you have,” Jamie says, moving out of the kitchen to my side so that Stevie can get to the fridge.

“We got beer, soda, and, uh, water I guess,” he says chuckling and scratching the back of his head bashfully, “I can’t say that it’s a huge selection.”

“I’ll take a soda,” Jamie says, flashing his dad his consistently bright smile.

“I’ll have a beer,” I say. I’m going to need something to get rid of these nerves.

“A soda and two beers, got it.” He says, rifling through the mini fridge.

I see Jamie glance at me out of peripherals, so I turn to look at him. He laces his fingers in mine, lifting my hand up to his lips and gently pressing a kiss to them. He says nothing but I get his message loud and clear, “Chill out.” I nod in a show of understanding, faintly smiling as I take a deep breath trying to suppress the mild yet noticeable buzz of anxiety inside of me.

“So, lovebirds, I wanna hear everything about you two,” I hear Stevie say as he places Jamie and I’s drinks on the table in front of us. “I mean except for the stuff I already know or the stuff I don’t wanna know if you know what I mean,” he winks at me and then laughs at his own joke heartily.

I laugh along with him, only laughing more when I see Jamie blush a little. I wrap my arm around him, jokingly shaking him, “Oh come on Jamie, you can’t be blushing at that.”

“I inherited that from my very Irish dad, as you can see,” he indicates towards Stevie, whose face has been a jolly pink color since he first started laughing.

“You should be proud, blushing is what won me your mother ya know,” Stevie says through the last of his chuckles.

Jamie nods, “Yeah I know,” he chuckles slightly.

I stare incredulously at the two of them for a moment before saying, “What do you mean?”

“Jamie, have you never told Malic about how I met your mom,” Stevie asks.

“I was kind of waiting for you to tell it, I mean it is more of your story,” Jamie says while shrugging.

“Alright Malic, let me tell you a story.” He pulls out one of the chairs from the table and I do the same, “Jamie do you still remember how to start the fire pit?” 

“I think so,” Jamie says, “Where is it?”

“Just out the back,” Jamie nods and turns and leaves the motor home. “Thanks bud,” Stevie calls after him. “Alright, so let me tell you about why blushing is literally the best trait for getting a date,” he says as he turns his attention back to me. “So when I was in college I was part of this big friend group, we used the kind of the hippie motto of friendship, if you were nice to any of the people you were everyone's friend. I was in this group, and we’re out to party at some dive bar. Everyone’s having a good time and  I get sent on a drink run. Something like a couple more margaritas or whatever, it doesn’t really matter for this story. But I go up to the bar, and this bartender comes up to me, and she is like, wow.” I chuckle, although the genuine sparkle that comes to his eyes makes my heart ache. “Just her hair, and her eyes, and her everything is out of this world. So I fumble over my order, and I can feel myself getting super blushy. I get the drinks and practically bolt into the center of my friend group. I give some friends their drinks but I stay in the center of the group, using them as cover. In my head, I know I can’t go out there because she’s out there. So I’m hiding, and out of nowhere some friend of a friend taps me on the shoulder and hands me a napkin. On it says, “For the blushing guy, call me” and underneath that, there was a phone number. I just knew it had to be the bartender.”

I laugh, “Wait, so when she handed that note to your friends they all knew who she was talking about?”

“Exactly, and that’s what is so amazing about this blush,” he says, running his hands dramatically over his cheeks, “It’s alluring, as you probably already know.”

I falter, feeling my face heat up slightly, although not nearly as much as Stevie or Jamie’s do.

“Yes, it really is,” I chuckle, thinking about Jamie. He never failed to surprise me sometimes with just how cute he could be. His eyes are just so big and he pulls these innocent looking faces whenever he needs to win me over for something. He knows it’s my kryptonite, and I can’t really find the will to complain about it.

“Speaking of Jamie,” Stevie says, giving me a knowing smirk, “what is taking him so long?”

“I can’t get it to work,” Jamie says as he walks into the trailer.

“Speak of the devil,” I say.

“Hey, I’ll have you know I am an angel, most days,” Jamie places his hands under his chin like some modern day cherubim.

“I’ll go start it, Jamie can you make some plates of food. Your boyfriend needs something in his diet that isn’t just straight protein.” He chuckles to himself and walks out.

Jamie moves over to the pot and gets plates down from the cupboard, while I grab a knife and start cutting the cornbread in the pyrex dish into squares.

“Are you less nervous now that you’ve met him,” Jamie says while spooning chili onto a plate.

“It’s not an insult to say that I am, is it,” I say jokingly.    


“He likes you a lot, I can tell.”

“How can you tell?” 

“He wears his heart on his sleeve. If he didn’t like you, you would know. However, he has been extremely friendly and warm to you, so what do you think that means.” I turn to look at him and see him smiling into the chili.

“Have you seen the way he lights up when he talks about your mom,” I see Jamie stop spooning for a moment, before resuming wordlessly, “His eyes sparkle, he gets all bubbly. It looks like when you give a toddler exactly what they wanted for their birthday.”

Jamie laughs, “Yeah, they loved each other a lot.”

“Yeah, they did.” I agree. “You should know that I get like him whenever I talk about you.”

I hear Jamie practically squeak from where he stands next to me.

“I’m serious, everyone I’m with says that whenever I talk about you or you get brought up in conversation I go into my own little happy daze. And I want you to know that I intend to do that until I am your father's age and beyond.”

I turn to look down at Jamie, to find him already looking up at me. His eyes have tears forming in them, and I can’t tell if they are from the mention of his mother or what I just said. Either way, I pull him into a hug and plant a kiss gently to the top of his head.

“Are you guys almost done in there, everything is all ready out here.” we hear Stevie call from outside.

Jamie starts moving and I let him go, he looks up at me with a small smile on his lips, “I love you, so much. So much more than I could express to you. Thank you for caring so much about wanting my dad to like you, thank you for coming out to meet him, just thank you Malic.” He stands on his toes and kisses me gently. “Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

Jamie grabs two plates and I grab a plate and our two drinks. We go out the back door of the trailer to find three lawn chairs set up around a small fire. We all sit down in a chair, looking into the fire.

Stevie grabs his beer from the cup holder in the chair, raising it in a toast, “To a night in good company and filled with love.”

“Cheers,” Jamie and I say in unison, reaching over to clink our respective drinks together.

“So,” Stevie starts, “How long have you guys been together now?”

“Eight months, almost nine though,” I answer.

“So tell me how you guys met,” he smiles.

“Well, I was cleaning up at the shop when he decides to show up, and then he refused my offer to let him take something for free.”

“You tried to give him something for free,” Stevie questions.

“Don’t worry, I tipped him a hundred dollars to even out the score.”

“You tipped him a hundred dollars,” Stevie says incredulously.

“And the rest is history,” Jamie smiled.

\---

The dinner had continued on as usual, casual conversations about love and dating as well as Stevie and I bonding over embarrassing stories about Jamie. We had done the dishes, folded up the lawn chairs, extinguished the fire and basically finished everything that needed to get done during the night.

We now stood inside, laughing at some inside joke that had been made earlier in the night. The darkness of the night not daring to penetrate into the light and bubbly atmosphere of the trailer.

“Alright dad, I think we need to head out, we both have to be up early tomorrow,” Jamie said, the tone of somber in his voice there but greatly diminished. I knew this would be hard for him, he probably wouldn’t see his dad for quite a while after tonight.

His dad seemed to sense this and brought him into a bear hug, “I love you, kiddo.”

“I love you too, dad.”

“Okay, I’m going to start the car,” Jamie says as he moves out the door.

Now I am left alone with Stevie, and I can feel the moment I feared impending. The dreaded verdict, where I figure out if he approves of me or not.

“Alright, so this is the part where I give you the dad talk, right?”

“I guess,” I say, trying to force a charismatic tone, but settling for the smile that I spoke through.

“I should probably say if you ever hurt him I will find you and hunt you down,” here it comes. “But, to be honest,” I take a deep breath, preparing for the worst, “I don’t feel like I need to say that.”

“I’m sorry,” I ask, confused.

“I see how you look at him, I know it well. I probably don’t need to tell you how in love with my son you are. I know you wouldn’t dream of hurting him, and even if you did somehow you would beat yourself up over it far worse than you probably hurt him. So I don’t need to tell you to protect him, or to love him, or make him happy. . . or do I.”

“No sir, you don’t,” I nod, feeling my heart swell so much that it’s hard not to smile.

“Don’t call me sir, son,” he places a hand on my shoulder, “From now on, consider me dad numero dos.”

I let the smile building inside of me come through, “Alright.”

Jamie pokes his head in the door, “Are you guys alright in here?”

“Fantastic, James,” Stevie says, looking at me for a moment, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, the car is started,” he smiles at me, “You ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” I say, I turn back to Stevie and hold out my hand. He grasps it and he pulls me into a hug. 

He claps me on the back a few times before letting me go, but not before he whispers in my ear, “You guys are perfect for each other.”

Jamie walks up to Stevie once he lets me go, giving him another hug to which Stevie engulfs Jamie in his arms, “Bye dad, thank you for tonight.”

“It was my pleasure, it’s always fun to host.”

“Seriously thank you, Stevie, I’m glad I finally got a chance to meet you,” I say as he lets Jamie out of the hug.

“Me too, son, me too.”

And with that, Jamie is leading me out the door by my hand, Stevie following us out. We hop in the car, Jamie driving this time. We start to drive away, waving to Stevie through the window as we pass him. 

Suddenly, we are out of the trailer park and out on the open road. The occasional street light illuminating the car in its pale golden glow. I sit in the passenger seat and stare at Jamie, admiring all of the features that I can see in the passing lights. I can see the outline of his face, a perfect silhouette, contrasted against the passing trees and foliage. His nose crinkles slightly whenever the road winds, partly because he is scared of accidentally going over the line by turning too much or not enough. His eyelashes are long and slightly curled, and very easily seen in the overhead glow of the moonlight through the sunroof of the car.

That is when I realize that the sparkle I saw in Stevie’s eyes, that glimmer of love and pure affection, I can see it.

 

 

I see it in Jamie’s eyes whenever he glances at me.


	2. Tupperware

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flipity Flop TIME BOIS
> 
> This time Jamie is taken to meet Malic's parents, and it's a wild ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, if you like this give this story a kudo and leave a comment for story suggestions for these wonderful boys.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I question Jamie, I have given every possible reason for him to call this off, please just call it off.

“Yes, I’m sure. We’ve been dating for nine months and I haven’t met your parents yet. I know they are hard for you to deal with but I feel like they should at least know what I look like.”

“We can just send them a picture,” I suggest, getting an unamused look from Jamie.

“Malic, please,” Jamie pleads, “If you absolutely cannot face them with me then we won't do it but we will talk about your issues with your parents. But if you can stomach it, please just let me meet them.”

“It’s not that I can’t I just,” I pinch the bridge of my nose to control the migraine I can feel coming on from talking about my parents, “they can just be so, so bad. I don’t want them to be how they are in front of you.”

He walks up to me and places his hands on the side of my face, “Honestly, they can be awful when I’m there and I probably wouldn’t care. I just want to meet your parents, and have them meet me. Is that so bad?”

“No, it’s not,” I sigh. “It’s just embarrassing. I’m twenty-seven and I’m still embarrassed by my parents.”

“I understand that, and I promise I would never judge your parents nor does how your parents act determine how much I care for you.” He presses a gentle kiss to my lips, “It would just mean a lot to me.”

“Okay,” I whisper, but his face is still close enough to mine that he could hear me.

“Thank you,” he smiles as he presses our lips together.

 

* * *

 

“This is a bad idea,” Jamie says as we get into the car.

I quickly look at him. “This was your idea,” I say incredulously.

“I know, but now I’m thinking about it and I’m realizing it’s a bad idea.”

I stare at him for a moment. I want to agree with him, but I know that he’s just nervous. I place my hand on the console of the car, upturned for him to hold onto. He takes the invitation.

“What if they hate me? What if they just want me to leave? Would I have to walk home because I am not wearing the shoes for that?”

I cut him off with a chuckle, “If you think I’m letting you walk home you have actually lost your mind. Firstly, I don’t think anyone could hate you if they tried, secondly you are getting in your own head. Take a deep breath with me, it’s going to be okay.”

He doesn’t take a deep breath, instead opting to look out the window before putting the key in the ignition and starting the car. I watch him as we reverse out of the garage. His eyebrows are furrowed together in concentration, although more concentration than necessary for pulling out of a garage. I could feel his nerves, almost as if they vibrated the air in the car.

“Or not,” I mutter, “Listen, we both don’t want to do this, but if it’s any consolation, I’m glad you’re making us do this.” I see his eyebrows raise out of the corner of my eye, “I really do want to introduce you to my parents, and I probably should learn to deal with how they can be,” I take a deep breath, “So thank you.”

He sighs, “You’re right, and you’re welcome.” He smirks.

I continue to drive down the streets towards my parents home. Being famous parents they were already rich, but then they milked their famous child for even more. They could practically be considered LA royalty. My house is really big and fancy, but their house is something else. That’s why the small gasp Jaime lets slip from his mouth isn’t surprising to me.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, breathless.

“I should have told you,” I concede as I stare at the beautiful high windows and perfectly manicured garden, “They’re very rich.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he deadpans.

“Sorry,” I chuckle a little seeing his face.

“Sometimes I forget that I’m dating a famous person,” he mutters as he pops the door to his side of the car.

“Well,” I get out of the car, “Sometimes I forget how lucky I am,” I look at him, “Because I landed someone like you.”

“Says the person with biceps good enough to put you on the front covers of magazines,” he returns, blushing nonetheless. 

“Come on,” I move to him and put my hand around his waist, “Let’s get this over with.”

We walk together to the front door of the mansion. The door is tall and made of some sort of black metal with large rectangular windows in the center of them. I quickly glance at Jamie, noticing his worried expression. I hug him closer to me, wrapping my arm around him, as I ring the doorbell.

We wait just a few moments before my childhood butler Jonathan comes to the door. I smile at him, “Hello Jonathan, long time no see.”

“Same to you Malic,” he tentatively walked up to me, extending his hand. I laughed for a moment before pulling him into a hug, “Oh, well this is very nice sir.”

I pull away, “Jonathan this is Jamie, Jamie this is Jonathan, my childhood butler.”

“Your butler,” Jamie says, obviously trying to conceal his shock, “Go figure.”

“Yes, Malic mentioned you on the phone,” they shook hands, “Well, right this way sirs.”

We walked into the house, almost identical to how I remembered it from my childhood save for a few furniture and decor changes. I lead Jamie through the foyer by his hand, I can tell he is too distracted by the size of the room to really be watching where he is walking. I move towards the living room, expecting to see my parents lounging on the couches, probably two glasses of wine already drained. Instead, I see a short bob of purple hair, and there is only one person that could be in here with that kind of hair.

“Rachel,” I question, smiling as I see my sister turn her head to face me at the mention of her name.

“Malic,” she leaps over the back of the sofa and smothers me in a hug, “What are you doing here, you never come by.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say a little bashful, “We’re having dinner with mom and dad.”

At the mention of a ‘we’ I see Rachel scan the room, her eyes quickly landing on Jamie, “Oh, you brought a guest,” she smirks at me.

“Rachel this is-”

“Jamie,” she interrupts, “I do read the magazines you’re mentioned in you know.” She side eyes me before turning to Jamie, “It’s a shame I never got to meet you until now,” She says as she surprises Jamie with a hug and as they embrace she gives me a thumbs up and silently mouths “Good job,” causing me to have to suppress a chuckle.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Jamie says, “Forgive me for probably being wrong about this, but I seem to remember Malic telling me you were a chemical engineer.”

“You remembered correctly,” she says, “I may not be some big movie star like Mr. Gymrat over there,” she gestures to me, “but at least I know how to use my brain.” They laugh together.

“Hey, I’m really smart I’ll have you know,” I retaliate, smiling nonetheless.

“You’re right, but you definitely are more brawn than brains,” she says, sticking her tongue out at me.

“That is not true, Jamie back me up here.”

“I mean,” he starts, “You’re very smart sweetie,” I smile for a moment, “But, I do think that most of your math education comes from adding up weights at the gym.”

“Yes,” Rachel puts up a hand to Jamie for him too high five, which he does triumphantly, “That is so true.”

“Whatever,” I say with an eye roll as I walk over to the pair, “What are you doing here anyways Rachel?”

“Mom invited me over, probably so I can make sure she doesn’t fall asleep in the yard after she downs a couple of drinks,” she shrugs, “She always picks the least favorite to do the dirty work.”

I frown, “You know she loves you.”

“Oh I know, she just loves you more. She never has had an appreciation for anything besides the glitz and glam of Hollywood.”

I hear Jamie suck in a breath, “I take it she won’t love the fact that I run a small antique shop?”

“Probably not,” Rachel says, “But I learned early on that you should take nothing she says into consideration. You’ll just get hurt feelings if you do,” she places a sympathetic hand on Jamie’s shoulder.

“Stop, he’s already nervous,” I say, a tinge of annoyance in my voice as I see Jamie’s nervous look only deepen at Rachel’s words.

“It’s just the truth,” she says, “speaking of them, do you know where they are?”

“I was kind of hoping you would know,” I say, “I just hope they aren’t drinking yet, you know how they can get.”

“They probably have knowing mom and dad,” Rachel mutters through gritted teeth, “We should probably find them soon if we want this dinner to go smoothly for you two.”

Before we can start the search a slurred mumble from down the hall rings in our ears. I could tell it’s my mother before I even registered the vocal tone, considering my father rarely speaks. Rachel and I exchange a worried look before making our way down the hall, I hear Jamie quietly trail behind.

My mother is walking towards Jonathan, mumbling something about dinner. The drunken slur in her voice is unmistakable. “Shit,” I curse internally. My father walks out just moments later, quietly sauntering over to the dining room table with an almost completely drained bottle of chardonnay.

Mom is the first to notice our presence, “Malic,” she cheers, throwing her hands in the air, “I’m so glad you came over,” she hugs me.

“Of course mom, you do remember our dinner plans right?”

“Of course sweetie,” The pet name Jamie uses so often feels foreign coming from her, “Look, the table is all set for you and your friend.”

“He’s my boyfriend, mother.” I correct.

She doesn’t even acknowledge that I said anything, instead turning to Rachel, “Oh, Rachel. What are you doing here?”

“Mom, you called me over,” she says, clearly annoyed.

“Oh that’s right,” she laughs, “I completely forgot, well we always have extra food, so you’re welcome to stay.”

“Gee, thanks,” she says, the passive-aggressive energy flowing off of her in waves.

“And you, you must be,” she points a finger at Jamie, “James.”

“Jamie, ma’am,” he corrects politely, “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Bill get over here and meet James,” she slurs as she yells to my dad.

My dad walks over to Jamie, staring at him for a moment before wordlessly extending his hand. Jamie shakes it, and after that, he walks off.

“So Jamie,” my mother says, pulling his attention away from the awkward display my father put on, “How long have you and my son known each other.”

Before Jamie can answer I say, “Hey mom, why don’t we start dinner before we get to the questioning.”

“You’re so right, and that’s why I love my golden boy,” She says, annoyingly chipper despite her drunken swagger, “Let’s start eating.”

We all sit down, with my mom and dad on one side of the table, Rachel at the head of the table, and Jamie and I sitting next to one another. I reach out to his hand under the table, and he takes it graciously. Dinner is brought out by Jonathan, some fancy steak and some other sides.

“So Jamie, where are you from,” my mother starts what I can only hope will be a short barrage of intrusive questions.

“Oh, well I was born in LA but I grew up in Kansas,” he says with a smile.

“Right, and what was it like living there?”

“Pretty boring, I spent a lot of time in my local library. It was actually nic-”

“Were you poor,” My mother interrupts, clearly bored or unsatisfied with his last answer.

“Mom,” I say, annoyed.

“What,” she slurs, “ I just wanted to know.”

“It’s okay Malic,” I look at Jamie to see him smiling, although now it is clearly forced, “We weren’t the wealthiest family, lower-middle-class kind of area.”

“Wow, so this must be so weird for you,” She says this almost mockingly, although Jamie seems to caught up in trying to appease her to care.

“Yes, it is quite weird, but I’ve been living with Malic for a few months now so I’m star-”

“You guys are living together,” She interrupts yet again.

“Mom, maybe you should take a break with the drink,” Rachel says. I hadn’t noticed that she had drained another entire glass of wine in the time of that question segment, I was too caught up in monitoring how my mom’s questions affected Jamie.

“Mind your damn business Rachel,” she snaps, before quickly recovering and smiling widely at Jamie, “So what do you do for a living Jamie?”

He gulps, “Well, I own an antique shop.”

“Is it successful?”

“Mom,” I say as an almost warning for her not to go any farther.

“Well, I’m still getting it off the ground,” Jamie says, obviously uncomfortable talking about his business in a mansion.

“So you don’t make that much?” 

“Well I-”

“Mom,” I say angrily, “You know it’s rude to ask someone how much they make.”

She doesn’t listen to me, instead taking a swig of wine and saying, “It must be nice to have my son, with how successful he is.”

“I’m very proud of Malic’s accomplishments ma’am,” Jamie says, voice wavering a little.

“That’s not what I meant,” she spits, gulping down more wine.

“Mom, cool it with the wine,” Rachel begs.

“Butt out Rachel,” she snarls, “Jamie, why do you date my son.”

“Well, I love him mor-”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with the money?”

“Mom,” I yell, “This is ridiculous.”

She continues to stare down Jamie, “You just want him for the money don’t you, and my son is too dumb to see otherwise. How did you manipulate him to love you, huh? My son is too good for you, he’ll come to his senses and settle down with a beautiful woman just you wait.”

“Mother,” I yell at her, finally catching her attention, “That is enough.”

“Malic, sweetie, I’m just trying to protect you.”

“No, mother. You’re being terrible. I didn’t bring the love of my life here so you could insult him and accuse him of using me for my money.”

“Well, I just don't understand. Why are you with him?”

“Because I love him, mother,” I scream, louder than I knew I could, “I love him more than I have ever loved you for instance, because unlike you he isn’t a total asshole. Fuck mom, we’ve been dating for over half a year and you never wondered why I never took him to meet you. It’s because I’m ashamed of you, and because you act like this.”

“I did nothing wrong,” she slurs venomously in return.

“Oh, yes you did,” I laugh angrily, “Firstly, you get drunk before we arrive to have dinner with you as your guests, then you question my boyfriend like he needs to be interrogated, you are a total bitch to your fucking daughter, and then you accuse the person I brought to meet you and be your guest of gold digging. Fuck off, you’re a bitch and you need to sober up.” With that, I storm off.

“Malic,” I hear Jamie call behind me. I feel bad for leaving him back there, but I need to be alone right now. I jog down the hallways to my childhood bedroom, finding it largely untouched from when I last saw it.

I sit down, running my hands over the blue comforter that covers the bed. I feel a little relieved, truth be told. I knew being around my parents again was going to cause my issues with them to flare up, but I feel like I got to release all of that aggression just a few moments ago. The catalyst was obviously Jamie, in all of my years of being annoyed with them, being angry with how they treated guests and even Rachel, I could never find the will to yell at them like I just did. But with Jamie it’s different. Seeing him get backed into a corner by my mother sent me into this insane raging bull mode. It just drives me crazy to see him in any form of distress nowadays.

To soft knocks on the door in front of me make me look up. Rachel is standing in the doorway, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” I smile and pat a spot on the bed next to me.

“How are you holding up,” she asks.

“You’re asking me, you and Jamie were the ones who should be hurt.”

“Well I can’t speak for Jamie, but don’t worry about me, I’ve dealt with her for years.”

“I’m sorry,” I mutter.

“For what?”

“I never stood up for you when we were kids, I always just watched how she treated you and turned a blind eye.”

She chuckles, “You know, a few years ago I would have said apology not accepted and given this speech on how you can never take back years of purposeful ignorance.”

“But,” I say bashfully.

“But, now I live a great life. I’m successful. I’m happy. I own two cats and a dog.” I laugh, “All of that stuff when we were kids just seems so distant. And as for what she said, I know my worth. I know that I don’t need her approval to be happy.”

“You’re right,” I smile, “I’m still sorry though.”

“Well, then apology accepted.”

There is a small lull in the conversation. Both of us just listening to the sounds of the house around us. It’s nice, and it’s been a while since we hung out just the two of us. We used to be really close, but gradually as I started to evolve into the Hollywood golden boy my mother always wanted and my sister did not, she drove us apart. Suddenly I got all of these special privileges and she didn’t. Rachel had to fight for them to pay for her college tuition, granted Brown was quite expensive but it’s not like we couldn’t pay for it, plus I never went to college considering I had a career from age seven and on.

“So, that Jamie of yours,” she smiles, “I can’t really say I got to talk to him for a long time, but I’m sure he's great.”

“He’s perfect,” I smile, thinking of him.

She looks at me with a raised eyebrow, “Well he's definitely cute.”

“I don’t pay attention to shallow things like that,” I put on a pretentious pout.

“Oh really, then you didn’t mentally undress him when you first met?”

“Of course I did,” I laugh, breaking character, “God he was wearing these jeans that just hug his ass so well,” I make a cupping motion with my hands.

“I don’t need to know,” she says laughing as she playfully swats me. Soon we’re both laughing together.

“We need to hang out more,” I say, coming down from a fit of laughter.

“We really do,” there is a long pause, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I say, “I’m sorry for not coming around more.”

“I don’t blame you, you’re busy and I wouldn’t want to spend my day off reminiscing about our crappy childhood either,” she says, and I chuckle. “Plus, you have someone else to be hanging out with now.”

I give her a knowing smile, “Yes, I do.”

“Is he good to you?”

“Yes,” I say, “So, so good. He might just be the single most caring person I’ve ever met. And frankly, if anything I’m the one whose bad for him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when we first got together and the news about us got out he saw so much hate he had to leave and hide from me to get away from it all. I had to give a speech to bring him back.”

“Oh yeah, I remember that. I didn’t watch the whole video, it was a little boring,” she says, trying to lighten the mood.

“Am I bad for him?”

“Malic, why do you say that?”

“Well, I first exposed him to unwanted public attention, and then I introduced him to mom only for him to get insulted. Meanwhile, all he ever does is care for me and try and make me happy.”

“Malic,” she says, placing her hand over mine, “Do you remember what you did when Jamie started getting chewed out by mom.”

“I yelled,” I question.

“You protected him, you came to his defense and protected him,” she smiles, “Maybe your life does bring some hardships for him, but you are always going to be there to protect him from those as well as the hardships in his life, am I right?”

“You’re right,” I feel a smile creep onto my face.

“I think that’s your role in the relationship, and as long as you keep doing your part and he keeps doing his you guys will keep going as steady as you have been.”

I nod for a moment, “Thanks, Rachel.”

“No problem, but do you think Jamie will keep doing his part?”

I look at her, “I don’t think it’s possible for Jamie not to try and make everyone around him happy,” I smile.

“Then he gets my seal of approval.” 

I feel myself start to get choked up, and I can’t tell if it’s because I’m getting my sisters approval or because I know I probably won’t be able to get my parents. But at this moment in time, my sister's approval seems so much more important.

“I want to go find Jamie,” I saw quietly. Where would he be? Last I remember he was with… oh no, “Did you leave Jamie with mom and dad?”

“Don’t worry, after you left they went to the living room to lie down. Jamie is fine.”

“Oh thank god,” I exhale.

With that, we walk out, down the hall and towards the dining room. However, the dining room table is empty and cleared. We stare at one another quizzically before glancing into the kitchen to see all of the dishes washed and the sink filled with bubbly water.

“Okay, please tell me Jamie didn’t do this,” Rachel says.

“Are you kidding, doing the dishes of someone who was an asshole to him is the most Jamie thing on the planet.”

We continue to walk to the living room, finding Jamie kneeling by the coffee table scribbling something on a notepad. Next to him are my mom and dad, laying down on separate couches. Each with a blanket over them.

“Did he tuck them in,” Rachel questions incredulously.

“Yeah,” I say as I smile and I weirdly feel like crying. How did I ever get so lucky to get someone like him?

We stare at him for a few more moments before Rachel whisper-shouts to him, “You know, it isn’t required to write them a letter after they insulted you over dinner.”

Jamie looks up with an embarrassed blush all over his face, “I’m not writing a letter.”

“What are you writing, love,” I ask.

“Hangover cures,” he states nonchalantly.

I look at Rachel who looks halfway between being shocked and wanting to laugh her ass off. I look back at Jamie who has finished and is now walking over to me with his arms out in a silent request for a hug which I am happy to fulfill.

 

* * *

 

 

When we get home Jamie cries into me for a while, and I hug him through it. I assure him that they’ll come around and this changes absolutely nothing about how much I love him. I know he won’t believe me for quite a while, but that’s just how he is.

As we lay in bed, with Jamie tucked so perfectly under my arm, I see my phone screen light up with a notification. It’s a text from Rachel.

 

**R:** he put the leftovers in tupperware

**R:** FUCKING TUPPERWARE

**R:** you need to put a ring on that boi’s finger immediately

 

And as I look at Jamie, lightly snoring into my side as he clutches lightly at my shirt, I decided I just might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this give this story a kudo and leave a comment for story suggestions for these wonderful boys.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed make sure to give this a kudo and leave your thoughts in the comments.
> 
> Want more of these boys? Then subscribe to this series, it's all about their cute antics and shit, and if you have something you want to see me write about them leave that in the comments of one of the stories.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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